Springtime Window

The bitter cold hard wind whipped snow like mountain ranges piled high along the fences squeaked and cracked in shards beneath my feet. There, amid the peaks and hollows etched by wind born flecks of snow I came upon a roundish hole that disappeared below ‘mid feathery flakes of frost like lace adorned the face and lined the walls inside. Whence, this hole enshrined with angel wings of frost? Peering down the blue lit cavern my wind burned cheeks could feel the gentle warmth...